from a place of pride

꧁ Dragon Age: Bad Girls Club

written by lucky

Solas cleansing the dagger

You Are Alone.

Yes, of course she is, everyone dies alone. King, pauper, and crow are all equal in death's grip. It is only when the searing pain in her skull abates along with the burning in her side that finally sense returns enough that her eyes fly open.

--Blight.

Ichor and blight surround her and her lip curls but it is the man who stands before her that has her loosing a feral snarl. Her hands reach first for knives he had knocked from her grip what feels like moments and enos ago. When palms land upon empty sheaths one hand reaches for a boot knife while the other moves to her pouch for a vial of poison. For him or her, she has not yet decided but she knows it's best to keep her options open.

Her eyes do not stray from his form as she stumbles to her feet, he is still as battle battered as she is. He is also still more powerful than her by several magnitudes but she cannot see the dagger on his person. Moreover she can see the sheer rage in his gaze, the hatred oozing as steadily as the blood from his headwound.

Cosima cackles, satisfied that her desperate final gambit has succeeded, that she has bought her friends time. Her smile is brutal and bloody, an ugly thing born of this sacrificial victory but swiftly slides off her face. Any sense of triumph is fleeting, it is for her friends out there in the waking world now.

Her tone is bland, neither fear nor smugness permeate her words, "Lead the way then, Dread Wolf."

Solas leads Cosima with a limp. The closest the Fade had to northwards. Cardinal directions failed to encapsulate the behemoth they were fast approaching: the heart of the Black City. Elgar’nan’s palace, where Solas would find the dead tyrant’s throne and the core of the Blight. Weakly, he climbed stairs as they appeared one by one, the delay in timing difficult to surmise. He still had work to do. This would not stop him. She—

Fantastic. There were spirits floating their way, some curious about the disruption that pushed him and Cosima into the Fade, others had been positioned in the area as part of Solas’ failed plan. They were ready and their whispers demanded to know why he was not. Before he could walk through the gates of the Black City, a wave of spirits blocked their path. They were surrounded by ghostly and frankly, whining, whispers.

Why is the Veil still up?

You promised! You PROMISED!

Just like last time…

And you!

What about your friends? You left them behind!

Are you going to die here? With us?

Rook? Rook! Rook!

The last spirit sounded just like the members of the Veilguard, likely reflecting their cries of grief outside of the Fade. They were looking for Cosima. Solas would see to it they would not find her. His hand is on her arm, resting but ready to grab a tight hold if need be. The spirits had put them in a precarious position on this floating staircase. If she fell, it would be into the Fade or into pure Blight. That would be too easy. She hadn’t earned Solas’ mercy. If she was to die, he would not give her anything less than excruciating.

𝑰 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑫 𝑺𝑨𝒀 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑰'𝑴 𝑯𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑩𝑼𝑻 𝑰𝑻 𝑾𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑫𝑵'𝑻 𝑩𝑬 𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑬. 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑲𝑵𝑰𝑭𝑬 𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝒀 𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲, 𝑰𝑻 𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑴𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼.

a private mutually exclusive dragon age multimuse. loved by Jackie Featuring Felassan.

the more he spoke, the smaller she felt within this decision. was she being a coward? maethril thought that by leaving, she was denying them their help and sending some kind of powerful message that she could not be TAMED by these people. but instead, she simply felt... empty. where was she running to? could she even guarantee that she could make it to her clan? could they have moved their settlement by now? where would she be able to settle down and be SAFE? would she continuously be on the move as this inquisition hunted her for sport?

she didn't know that it was he who calmed the anchor -- she simply felt that the conversation, the ability to get all that ailed her from off of her chest, was what made her shoulders relax by just a fraction and a slow breath to leave her lips. and it was in that moment where she realized just how truly EXHAUSTED she was. when you peeled back the anger, the resentment, the pain... she was just tired. the smallest flame threatening to be put out. she still felt like a cornered animal, watching him carefully as she felt him touch her forever aching, forever throbbing hand. cassandra once asked her if it HURT and she couldn't help but lie to the seeker. she would never let that woman know of her very real pain.

"a comfort," came her dry remark, lips pulled in a way that seemed like a smile, but if you looked closer it might look like a SNARL. "although, out of everyone within this organization, your opinion of me living or dying holds... a bit more weight." not much, not enough for her to feel like it truly MATTERED. but enough that she noticed and... cared.

do you wish to be here?

the heaviness of the question and her inability to hide from it had maethril feeling somehow sheepish. embarrassed. had she shone her cards so recklessly? has she so STUPIDLY allowed herself to be SEEN by him? maethril made a promise to herself when this all started that none of them would be allowed so close. had she already misstepped? " -- i wish to be free." she didn't know how to obtain true freedom. she wondered if the afterlife might allow her such a thing at times, if she would be reunited with her lost love, with the family she's lost, if her spirit would be able to break away from this mortal coil and SOAR.

her cheeks were a fierce red and not just from the cold, although she was never more grateful for her scarf in this moment. large eyes flickered down to their hands, brow furrowing. "i believe you have enough on your plate than to trouble yourself with me." everyone did, after all. the end of the world grew closer day by day. she was simply the instrument they needed. but she thought about the conclave, the explosion. she remembered her utter disappointment when her eyes finally OPENED. "unless you have secret knowledge of how i could permanently silence the humans that insist on raising me up for their religion, i..." words trailed off. what COULD he do for her? "you've already saved my life, tended to the anchor, remained with the inquisition even though we both know that being elven apostates will do us no favors. surely, you've already done more than enough." more than she deserved. eyes moved back up to meet his and she was... searching for something. although, she didn't quite know what it was she was looking for.

“Would I have come looking for you?” Solas frowned slightly. He couldn’t meet her eyes. He wasn’t mulling over his answer, he already knew how he felt. He hesitated because there had been many moments when he wondered if he was being too obvious. Perhaps, if Maethril’s focus wasn’t, understandably, clouded by religious bureaucracy and demons falling from the sky, she wouldn’t have to ask.

“To me, there was no other option.” Solas answered. “When they said you were gone, I feared you had been captured or hurt…” Guilt, or something else, stopped his words in his throat. Quickly, he dropped her hand, letting his own rest on his hip. The tips of his ears were tinged pink. He cleared his throat. “As I said…”

He looked at her face, past the scarf and the vallasin that shouldn’t be there. “That’s not something I would like to see.” He hadn’t known her long and he was as suspicious of her as she should be of him. But he found her interesting and beneath the anger, there was a kindness. He had traveled all over Thedas with Soufei and only Maethril had managed to show Soufei what Solas still struggled with— softness.

“Walking into the tundra was your only source of reprieve. Your desire for freedom is not wrong, it’s natural. This is an inherently restrictive situation. You need support. I’m offering you friendship.” Not enough. How free would Maethril and the rest of the elves feel when the Fade wrapped around them like a warm quilt? When they lived their natural lifespans? “I can provide moments of quiet or advice. But only you can find your peace. Of course, this is all predicated on the idea you’ll come back to Haven with me…”

yes.